Tea Time
by Crazygirl99
Summary: The riddle is...Why is a raven like a writing desk?" A prequel to Alice in Wonderland. Rated T for drug reference


Alice in Wonderland: Tea Time

"Is that really what you're wearing?"

Life was not wonderful in Wonderland. And the Mad Hatter knew it. I mean, the whole incident was truly blown way out of proportions. The Queen had invited him to sing at her concert, after all. It was _her _decision. Now, he had this whole business with Time to deal with.

_Flashback _

"He's murdering the tune!" shouted the Queen, even redder with the new addition of her maddened face. "Off with his head!"

Again with the shouting and chopping off random body parts! Is it really that difficult to control one's temper?

"I am not!" shouted the Hatter, who stood beside the microphone. He held up the sheet music. "This tune is not harmed! Can't you see?"

The Queen pursed her plump red lips and squinted her heavy lidded eyes. "I don't believe it. That sound you have just produced is definitely the sound of someone dying. And if you are not dying, then it must be the tune!"

Heads began to nod in agreement around the concert. Hatty simply did not understand it. He looked to Time, who was still swinging back and forth on his metronome. He did not say a word.

"Time!" he whispered. "What shall I do?"

"Perhaps," said Time, "You should not pick insulting songs."

The Hatter looked down on his song list, going over the lyrics in his head.

"_And time/ goes by/ so slowly…"_

"_A time for hate…A time to kill…"_

"_No time for smiles, no time for knowing…"_

Oh dear.

_End Flashback_

"Really, Marchy," continued the Hatter, "You should not be wearing such an outfit for such an important meeting."

The March hare looked down at her outfit. She made it entirely of clocks. "But wouldn't he want us to show our support?"

"Would you like to have someone show up for a meeting wearing rabbit fur?" he parried, looking slightly shocked at why she would ask such a simple question. They were normally on the same page.

"I suppose so, Hatty. CLEAN CUP!" she shouted.

The next few seconds was a blur. The March Hare grabbed the pot containing the dormouse and the Hatter's sleeve and raced towards the end of the table.

"Now, then," said the Hatter, now comfortably seated beside his companion, "It's almost Time."

The March Hare had changed into a more appealing outfit that looked similar to the Hatter's. Minus the hat, of course. Both of them looked smashing in matching purple and green checked vests and tan trousers.

"Do feel a spot of rain coming on?" asked the Hare, holding up her paw and looking around.

"No, not a spot. More like a sentence leading up to the spot."

"Quite right, quite right. Is it Time yet?"

The Hatter sighed and pulled out his watch. "He did say the eleventh, correct?" He tapped his watch. "Not even the best butter could assuage the gears of this clock."

March Hare cried. "It was the best butter, I swear! Isn't that right Mr. Dormouse?"

The Dormouse stirred, opened one eye and said, "Sure."

All of a sudden, the clock moved. The wind began to blow and almost (almost, mind you) knocked the hat off of Hatty's head. The leaves began to change color and the sun rapidly charged across the sky. Then, almost magically, the face of a clock was seated across from them.

"Right on Time!" said the Hatter, pouring a cup of tea for his new guest.

"Yes, Hatter, I suppose you've called me here to discuss your punishment being lifted."

"Well, it seemed like there was no Time like the present!" smiled the March Hare, who immediately began to laugh hysterically. The Dormouse, sensing a joke, began to chuckle along with the rodent. The Hatter sprung into action and shoved the mouse back into the teapot.

"Our little Dormy," he said, through gritted teeth, "He just loves his pot."

"I'm in the mood for a nibble," came the muffled voice from inside the teapot.

"Never you mind, Dormy, for a nibble is not in the mood for you."

The Hare had still not stopped laughing. Hatter elbowed her in the side, but he soon found out that she was ticklish. "Marchy, have you been spending quality time with Dormy's pot?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "Or have you gone off chasing butterflies with the Caterpillar again?"

This seemed to be the antidote for the laughter. She quickly straightened up.

"So, how much Time do we have left?" the Hatter asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid. I have worked things over with the Queen for you. It is a miracle what a little anti-aging cream will get you. If you never show your face to her again, she will not feel the urge to remove it for you. Now, as your debt to me is left unpaid, you must do a thing for me. It will save me a great deal of myself."

"Anything, anything you wish," said the Hatter, happy to no longer be a fugitive.

"I have been asked to solve a riddle. It is complicated and has many answers. But I need _the_ answer. The one everyone will be happy with. Are you willing to find it for me?"

"Is the answer on the run," began the March Hare, "Or must we catch it in a trap?"

"No, the answer should come and sit itself down right next to you."

"Good," sighed the Hare, happy to not be chasing answers. Those things have a nasty bite to them.

"Here is the riddle…Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Both the Hare and the Hatter looked at each other. They had never heard of such a question. Other questions were simple: What is the meaning of life? (tea) If one tree falls in the forest with no one around to hear it does it still make a sound? (if it's a forest then certainly the other trees heard it. Don't be mad!) What is the sound of one hand clapping? (This person has obviously never been to a golf match.) But this…this is impossible. But, they gave some answers.

"They both have claws?"

"Not always."

"They both inspire a writer?"

"When has a writer at a writing desk ever been inspired?"

"They both have feathers?"

"Some new folk are using featherless quills."

The duo had run out of ideas. The both shrugged and took another gulp of tea.

"I'm sorry. We have no answer."

"No, I'm sorry for thinking you could handle this while I'm such a short amount of Time," said the clock, quite angrily. "Well, now you have all the time in the world! Until you solved this riddle, Time will stop for you." And, with an angry tick tock, the clock was gone. The sun stopped moving. The wind stopped blowing. The leaves stopped changing colors. It was still.

"No more Time?" squeaked the Hare.

"I do believe we are going to need a lot more tea."

* * *

AN: Umm, yeah. I know it's kinda weird, but this is a kinda weird fandom, right? It's short, I wrote it at 1:30 in the morning in a half and hour, and I really just wanted to publish something. Oh, and I made the March Hare a girl because I always pictured the character like a playboy bunny, so she's _Miss March Hare!_ Get it, like Miss March but with Hare? Yes, no? Confused? I also just wanted to make a prequel to Alice because I wanted to make the writing desk riddle something important. It seems like it should be, you know? Oh, and I totally ripped off a few songs there, I forget the names, but the artists own them, not me. I no own Alice, K? I also stole some lines from the Made for TV movie Alice in Wonderland, so all stolen dialogue goes to them. Thanx! Read and review. PS, Cassandra Starr is my homie, so go read her stuff! It's da bomb! (Wow, I felt really lame right there.)


End file.
